


Happily (Ever After)

by 30degreesandsnowing



Series: Christmas 2013 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Dalton!AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30degreesandsnowing/pseuds/30degreesandsnowing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seblaine. Prompt fic. Blaine Anderson lives his life for his boyfriend. His best friend has a problem with that. “One day, I’m going to convince you to be happy for your own sake.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happily (Ever After)

**Author's Note:**

> Also on Tumblr @ thisisforficiswear.tumblr.com

“I don’t want to leave Dalton,” Blaine said. His voice was muffled because he lay on his stomach, head buried in his arms, with his open laptop in front of him. The Skype connection was slow and had a tendency to break into pixels with rapid movement, but it was the best way to talk to Sebastian. Now that they were an ocean away from each other, they could not invade each other’s dorm rooms whenever they wanted. On most days, Blaine managed to keep from resenting the distance.

A snort of laughter came from the speakers. “Killer, there is a very simple solution to this problem.”

Blaine peeked up and looked at the screen. Sebastian’s image was pixelated and lagging, but Blaine could still make out the incredulous grin on his friend’s face. He dropped his head back down with a groan. “I know, I know.”

“’I know, I know,’” Sebastian mimicked “Have you tried talking to the guy?”

‘The guy,’ AKA Blaine’s boyfriend, Kurt, had done a lot of talking. The summer had been one long conversation to try and convince Blaine to transfer to public school. In the beginning, Blaine had ignored the issue. That no longer seemed to be an option.

“Of course I’ve tried talking to him!” Blaine shot upright, a little indignant. “Well, okay, I’ve sort of tried talking to him. He’s kind of … not talking to me? We still go out, but he won’t talk. He says he’s punishing me for not making a decision.”

There was a long, loaded silence. Blaine tilted his head curiously, wondering if his connection had been interrupted. It was unlike Sebastian to be so quiet. His friend usually had too much to say about Blaine’s life, not too little. The time Blaine had acquiesced to going to his boyfriend’s junior prom had result in a ten-minute lecture on the difference between being a good boyfriend and being a doormat.  It was possible that Blaine had even been looking forward to this conversation, and the support of his friend. It was no secret that Sebastian thought the world of Blaine.

On screen, Sebastian slumped down, resting his head in his hands. He was so still the picture almost seemed to clear.

 “Sebastian?” Blaine asked tentatively. He suddenly worried that it was too much, and that Sebastian had had enough of Blaine’s boy problems and petty Ohio dramas. He bit his lip. “Sorry,” Blaine said. “I was just venting. I didn’t mean to be a problem.”

Sebastian looked back up at him. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “You’re never a problem. It just boggles my mind that he would do this to you. Blaine, this stopped being funny when you called me after that dance.”

Blaine shrugged and fiddled with the hem of his polo. “It was important to him. And he made some good points.”

Sebastian said, “Yes, he made some great points. I remember that argument. I remember how he told you what to think and how to feel. Good times, good times.”

Now that Sebastian was talking, Blaine relaxed. If Sebastian was talking through his emotions, it meant he was not doing something impulsive, like throwing his coffee at the screen.

“The dance is over,” Blaine said. “We’ve talked it to death. I need your help on the McKinley issue.”

Sebastian said, “Blaine, just don’t go.”

“How am I supposed to explain that to Kurt? He keeps going on about wanting a _magic_ senior year, and I want him to be happy. I want to make him happy. How can I ruin that?” Blaine looked beseechingly at the camera.

Sebastian said, “Blaine, how exactly will you being at different schools ruin his high school experience?”

The question startled Blaine. It was obvious, right? It was better to have the people you love close — Sebastian himself was proof of that. The Skype chats the two had been forced into, after Sebastian had moved to Paris at the end of freshman year, were unsatisfying and lonely. It was not a big thing, switching schools for Kurt. Not really. And if he stayed at Dalton … well, it’s not like anything  would happen. Kurt would be upset. He would stop taking Blaine’s phone calls and stop coming over, and eventually he would cave and pick up. Blaine would apologize. Kurt would cry, and ask him if he always planned on running from his past, and when was he going to give Kurt the support he needed.

Just thinking about it made Blaine shrink in on himself.

Sebastian must have noticed, because he said, “Blaine, are you okay?”

Blaine cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine. I just hate to fight with Kurt. This isn’t that big of a deal. It’s just public school.” He avoided looking at the screen, because then Sebastian would realize he was lying.

Sebastian said, “You can’t leave Dalton,” like he had the power to bend reality to his words.

“Oh, really?” Blaine took a shaky breath. “Are you going to stop me?” He smiled at the screen.

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “I’ve got a 100% fool-proof reason for you to stay. It beats boyfriends, guilt trips, and any thought you had about confronting your past. Again. Because you insist on torturing yourself.”

His interest peaked, Blaine asked, “That sounds like a remarkable reason.”

“It is.” Sebastian paused dramatically, letting the suspense build. Not for the first time, Blaine wished they were in the same room, because then he could tackle Sebastian until he talked.

“Well?” Blaine demanded.

Sebastian sighed and gave in. “I’m coming back to Dalton this year.”

Blaine stopped breathing.

“Mère is getting married, and she and Thomas are going on a world tour for their honeymoon. They’ll be gone all year, so I’m being shipped back to Ohio. Dad’s already made the arrangements.”

Blaine held up one finger to his computer, asking for a moment. He got up off his bed, walked out of his room, and closed the door. Then he jumped in the air and yelled out in pure exaltation.

_Sebastian was coming back to Dalton!_

Getting himself back under control, Blaine went back into this room and dropped down in front of the laptop. He was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. On screen, Sebastian looked tolerant and amused.

‘I’m really sorry, Sebastian, I know how much you love Paris,’ was what Blaine should have said. No matter how hard he tried, though, he could not bring himself to stop smiling enough to form the words.

“You’re coming back?” he finally managed, once it became clear that Sebastian was waiting for him to respond.

His friend nodded. “I’m being put on a plane as soon as the wedding is over. I’ll be back in the States by August 1st.”

Blaine grabbed up his pillow and hugged it in excitement. “Gosh, Sebastian, this is going to be amazing. I’ve missed you.” A thought occurred, and he voiced it before he thought better. “How long have you known?” The preparations for Patricia and Thomas’s wedding had been going on for a year. Had they broken the news to Sebastian so late?

Sebastian shrugged. “A few weeks.”

“Sebastian!”

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sebastian looked at him for a long moment. “You were going back and forth on whether or not to transfer. I wanted you to stay at Dalton because you wanted to, not because I’d be there.”

“But you just did that,” Blaine objected.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “Because I want you to be happy. Killer, would you really be happy if you transferred?”

Blaine said, “I’d be happy Kurt was happy.”

“One day,” Sebastian said, “I’m going to convince you to be happy for your own sake.”

* * *

  _‘I need you.’_

_‘Please.’_

Blaine sent the texts without thinking, and then dropped his phone, unable to keep looking at it. He huddled on the floor of his dorm room and put his head on his knees. Hot tears were spilling down his cheeks, and he rubbed them away on his jeans. The more he cried, the more he thought, and the more he thought, the harder he cried.

The door opened, and Blaine looked up to see his roommate, Scott, looking shocked and uncomfortable in the doorway.

“Um,” said Scott. “Err.”

“Move, Peterson,” someone ordered. “Go get coffee or something. Don’t come back.” Sebastian shoved into the room, then pushed Scott into the hallway and slammed the door behind him.

Blaine watched him through swollen eyes, wanting to reach out but absurdly shy.  This was going to be another ‘I told you so’ conversation, another time that Sebastian cursed Kurt’s name and told Blaine he could do better.

For the first time, Blaine might believe him.

“Blaine,” Sebastian said. He was hesitant and unsure, now, a marked contrast to his earlier energy.

Blaine sniffed. “I won,” he said.

Sebastian crouched down next to him, and put a tentative arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “I know. I’m surprised you aren’t celebrating with David in the common room.”

Blaine scrubbed at his tear-stained cheeks. “I wanted to call Kurt. I wanted to tell him I’d won. I thought he’d be excited.”

Sebastian stroked his hair. “He wasn’t? Asshole.”

“N-no,” Blaine hiccupped. “He didn’t pick up.” He gestured to his phone.

Brows furrowing, Sebastian picked up the object in question. Blaine leaned into his side while his friend scrolled through the device. Sebastian was heavy, warm, and safe against him.

“He’s ignoring your calls,” Sebastian said. “Killer, everyone gets busy, sometimes.” He sounded as though saying the words, and offering an excuse for Kurt’s behavior, physically pained him. Sebastian, who had been running against Blaine for Senior Class President, had not been there for the last month’s drama. He had no idea that this was the latest in a long string of ignored texts and brush offs. Blaine sobbed.

“He’s s-stopped calling me. We’re supposed to trade off, every other day, and he doesn’t call anymore. He missed our last three movie nights. Wh-when we talk, he just talks about New York, and Isabelle, and he keeps hanging up before I can tell him goodbye.” Pressed so close to Sebastian, Blaine could feel his friend tense up the more he listed off his problems with Kurt, until Sebastian finally swore, low and filthy. Blaine started to cry again.

Sebastian’s other arm wrapped around Blaine, tugging Blaine up and into his lap. Blaine buried his head in the crook of Sebastian’s neck and locked his legs and arms around his friend’s form, desperately anchoring himself in the other boy.

“I think I’m losing him,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you, but I don’t have anyone else, and it hurts, oh God it hurts, I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

Sebastian rubbed up and down his back. “He’s a pretentious douche,” he murmured, in what was probably meant to be soothing tones. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. He doesn’t deserve you crying. He’s a dick. You don’t need him. You’re too good for him, anyway. I’ve got you.”

When Blaine finally pulled back, his head ached from crying, his eyes felt puffy bruised, and he was sure he looked like a particularly ugly dog. Sebastian did not seem to notice or mind. The other boy stroked his thumb along Blaine’s cheekbone.

“We haven’t really talked, lately,” Sebastian said. “I think this whole who-gets-to-rule-Dalton competition may have gotten out of hand. I’m calling a truce.”

Blaine laughed wetly, turning his cheek into the warmth of Sebastian’s hand. “I won,” he objected.

Sebastian said, “I bet I could overthrow you. The Warblers like me better, they’d help.” His eyes were the color of spring grass, sweet and new and gentle.

Blaine said, “No they wouldn’t.” He realized his arms were still wrapped around Sebastian’s neck, and dropped them down. That was not much better, now they rested against the other boy’s thighs and hips. Blaine worried their closeness would make Sebastian uncomfortable. Before his friend had left for Paris, the two had touched often — Sebastian would throw an arm over Blaine’s shoulders, Blaine would grip Sebastian’s shoulder or hand when talking — but ever since Sebastian had come back, he had been stand-offish.  He squirmed in Sebastian’s lap, trying to put some space between them, but Sebastian would not let him go.

Blaine tilted his head inquiringly. Sebastian ignored his silent question and continued their conversation:

“Yeah, you’re right. You’ve got the entire school wrapped around your finger. It’s both hilarious and highly annoying.”

Blaine wanted to smile or banter back, but he could not find the words or the energy. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m just … sorry I let this get out of control. Thank you for coming.” He shifted again.

Sebastian squeezed his waist. “I actually really enjoy talking about how awful your boyfriend is, so don’t apologize.”

Blaine choked on a laugh. “You’re terrible. This is why he hates you.”

“If you think he hates me now, wait until he sees your Facebook tomorrow.” Sebastian used his grip on Blaine’s waist to haul the other boy upright as he stood, even as Blaine flailed for leverage and grabbed tight to his shoulders. It left them tangled together and shaky once they finally made it to their feet.

Blaine looked up at Sebastian, hovering on the edge of another giggle, but he what he saw on his friend’s face lead him to lean up and into Sebastian’s embrace. He held on.

Warmth, care, safety. Sebastian grunted in surprise but obligingly kept him close.

“What’s going to be on my Facebook?” Blaine asked into Sebastian’s neck.

“A club in Columbus, a lot of hot guys, and your ass in those red jeans. You won Class President, Killer. We are going to celebrate in style.”

“Is that — I mean, I don’t know, I just —” Blaine drew back, fumbling with his words, because he was not sure he wanted to celebrate.

He was losing Kurt.

Sebastian said, “Red jeans, and go wash your face. We are going to have a good time tonight. It’s non-negotiable.”

Blaine bit his lip.

He did want to celebrate. He had won against Sebastian, and he wanted to enjoy that feeling. Obviously Kurt wouldn’t care. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

* * *

 Mr. Hummel left Blaine standing on his front porch with a ticket and another entreaty. After his car left the drive Blaine found himself stared down at his hands, at the white paper and thinking, “No.”

He did not want to go.

He was not going to go. He had plans for tonight. He was not willing to give those plans up.

Mr. Hummel had turned up on his doorstep twenty minutes before. It was the 23th of December, there was a dusting of snow on the ground, and Blaine had been preparing for the Warblers’ Christmas party.

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” Mr. Hummel had said, and Blaine had left his mother setting out the hors d’oeuvres alone while he found out that the man he respected so much had been diagnosed with cancer.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was hoping you’d come with me to break the news to Kurt. I’ve never seen anyone coax a smile out of my son like you, and I think I might need you,” Mr. Hummel had said, after Blaine understood what was happening.

Blaine had said, “We broke up.”

Mr. Hummel had said, “I know,” and pressed a plane ticket into Blaine’s hands. “I hope to see you at the airport, Kid.”

The tickets were for that night. Blaine looked at them, then at the house decorated for Christmas, where his mother was still putting out snacks and mini pastries for his friends. David and Thad had convinced his mother that having a holiday party with all 18 of the Warblers was a good idea. Blaine had tried telling her that having so many boys in the house would be a mistake, that something would be broken, at it would probably be her entire china cabinet, but she had just smiled.

“Blaine,” Mother had said, “Those boys did a lot for you this year.”

She had not said anything more, but she did not need to.

The breakup with Kurt had been hard. Blaine had hyperventilated the entire ride to the airport, and begged Sebastian to take him home. Sebastian had refused. Blaine had gone to New York, turned up unannounced on his boyfriend’s doorstep, sung to him in a crowded bar that was nothing at all like the ones Sebastian took him to, and broke up with him on an empty sidewalk in October.

“Why are you doing this?” Kurt cried. “I love you! I don’t understand!”

“I love you, too,” Blaine said. Tears streaked down his face and his voice was hoarse and scratchy with grief. “I love you, but I can’t live like this. I can’t be second best in your life, I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t.”

He had gone to a hotel that night, and found Sebastian already there, a bottle of wine and a collection of mindless action films in his bag.

The Warblers had gotten him through those next few weeks, had stolen his phone and blocked Kurt’s number after a dozen voicemails, and had pretended not to see Blaine’s red eyes and shaking hands. Blaine knew how much he owed them. He had not realized his mother knew, too.

Another car pulled into the drive. Blaine heard it before he saw it, still looking resentfully at the ticket, and for a moment he worried that Mr. Hummel had come back. Instead, he found himself looking at a silver Porsche, his best friend climbing out the driver’s side with loose, elegant grace. For a moment, Blaine forgot about the ticket. He watched Sebastian’s long legs and how the cut of his friend’s coat accentuated his broad shoulders. Sebastian looked nice.

“Why do you look like someone killed your dog?”  Sebastian demanded, walking up to him.

The snow was falling into his friend’s light hair, crowning him in silver, and the cold frosted his breath the moment it left his pink lips. Sebastian looked _gorgeous_.

“Blaine!” Sebastian said.

Blaine blinked and came back to himself.. “Sorry,” he said. “Mr. Hummel was just here.”

Sebastian’s nose crinkled with scorn. “Your ex’s father came over? Fuck, what is Hummel  _on_ , did he really try to get his father to convince you to go back out with him?”

“What?” Blaine was confused. “No, it wasn’t anything like that. I haven’t heard from Kurt since Regionals. Mr. Hummel has cancer.”

“Okay,” Sebastian said. He was quiet for a moment, and then said, “Why did he tell you?”

 “I was close with Mr. Hummel back when Kurt and I were together. I’d be upset if he hadn’t told me.” Blaine frowned up at his friend.

“Uh-huh,” Sebastian said. “So why didn’t he call you.”

Blaine glanced down at the ticket. Sebastian, following his gaze, snatched it up out of his hands before Blaine realized what was going on.

“Hey!” Blaine protested.

“This is a flight. This is a couple flights, all the way to New York, for tonight.” Sebastian looked at Blaine, his green eyes suddenly cold and flinty. Blaine would have flinched, but he knew, down to his bones, the look was for Burt Hummel, not Blaine.

Before Sebastian could say anything further, Blaine grabbed his arm. “Hey, wait, Sebastian. I’m not going.”

Sebastian’s arm was tense under his fingers. Unconsciously, Blaine tightened his grip and stepped closer. He licked his lips and focused on Sebastian’s eyes.

“He wanted me to go with him to break the news to Kurt. He thought I could help. Kurt’s mom died of breast cancer, and he’s worried about how he’ll take it. I already said no.” Blaine explained quickly, watching Sebastian’s face flicker through emotions: anger, exasperation, annoyance, and pride.

“Really,” Sebastian said, finally relaxing. “You said no.”

Blaine relaxed, as well. He smiled up at his friend. “I said no,” he agreed.

Sebastian glanced away for a moment, and then looked back at Blaine, as though steeling himself. “Why?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you go? That sort of thing is right up your alley. Going in and comforting Kurt. Your white-knight tendencies must be going berserk. ” Contrary sharply to his earlier agitation, Sebastian sounded playful and teasing.

Blaine stared at him. “Do you really want to do this here? In the cold? When it’s snowing?”

With every word Blaine spoke, Sebastian had smiled a little broader, until he was finally grinning. He put his hands on Blaine’s waist and squeezed. “I do,” he said, suddenly cheerful.

Blaine pouted. “I have a plan,” he objected. “There’s mistletoe and everything.”

Sebastian said, “Plans are overrated. Come on, tell me.”

“Fine,” Blaine sighed. He looked Sebastian in the eyes, nerves fluttering in his stomach, and was put out by the gleam of triumph in his friend’s eyes. Jerk. He said, “I realized that living my life for other people was never going to make me happy, and that I wanted to spend Christmas with my family, so I should.” Blaine spun out of Sebastian grip and started for the door, pleased that he managed to avoid a lie  _and_  kept his plans for Sebastian on track.

“Hey!” Sebastian cried, and grabbed him back up in his arms, turning so they were facing each other. “That’s it? What’s the whole reason?”

Blaine smiled brightly. “I know! It’s only taken four years, but I think I finally understand what you’ve always been tell-mmph”

Sebastian interrupted him with a kiss. At first, it was just warm pressure and his friend’s hands running up and down his back, because Blaine was laughing too hard to respond. Then, he managed to put his arms around Sebastian and kissed back.

When they finally pulled away, both boys were breathless.

“And people say you’re the nice one,” Sebastian said.

“I am the nice one,” Blaine said, smiling.

“Liar,” Sebastian said, and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: What if Blaine and Sebastian were good friends before Kurt came and left Dalton. What if Blaine's heart told him to stay at Dalton--where he felt safe and valued--when Kurt asked him to go to McKinley? What if Sebastian supported Blaine then, and again, when Kurt asked Blaine to go to Kurt's junior prom (despite Blaine's Sadie H. trauma), and again when Kurt neglected Blaine after Kurt left for NY? With Sebastian's friendship, would Blaine have courage to put his happiness first?


End file.
